


Are You Gonna Go My Way?

by tygermine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Holidays, Los Angeles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:40:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28168620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tygermine/pseuds/tygermine
Summary: Hermione and Blaise have an arrangement.How does a gingerbread biscuit change that?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37
Collections: Hermione's Holiday Hideaway 2020





	Are You Gonna Go My Way?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Charlie9646 for the beta and Hslades for the aesthetic!
> 
> First time writing this pairing and it was quite a bit of fun.
> 
> Enjoy!

Here’s the thing.

When you move to a foreign city, away from everyone that you know and love, your brain does something to your personality and you end up doing things you’d never expect yourself to do.

Things like shagging Blaise Zabini.

Hermione couldn’t really explain it other than he was someone she knew in a city full of strangers.

It hadn’t been her intention to fall into bed with him. It just sort of happened, like when you walked into the grocery shop for eggs and came out with a trolley full of items, but no eggs.

She had moved to Los Angeles a year before and had trouble making friends with the people there. She’d been alone and lonely, so when she ran across him at a house party, they seemed to latch onto each other in a way that only loneliness could explain.

She’d never harboured feelings for him in the past, nor had she found him attractive per se, but here she was, waking up in his bed for the umpteenth time since that night.

And while the sex was...rather good, there just wasn’t anything more in her eyes.

That’s when the biscuits started turning up.

* * *

It was the week before Christmas and the only reason Hermione had any idea was due to the obnoxious decorations everywhere.

Los Angeles could do a lot of things right, but Christmas was not one of them. 

It wasn’t cold enough, there was no snow and all the Santas she saw wore shorts and were tanned.

In Hermione’s opinion, Los Angeles didn’t deserve Christmas. 

So imagine her surprise at finding the perfect gingerbread man lying on her desk one morning.

It was the size of a side plate and was perfectly iced with a little smiley face and Santa suit. 

There was no note.

Hermione was no fool and didn’t try it -- one never knew what it was made with and her mother had always taught her not to accept sweets from strangers, or ghosts as it seemed.

She binned it and forgot about it until she met Blaise for drinks that night at some quiet little beach bar in Redondo Beach Pier.

Blaise was the one to bring it up, albeit in his own roundabout way,“Muggles certainly celebrate Yule in an odd way, don’t they?”

“Mass consumerism?” She took a sip of some cranberry cocktail Blaise had ordered for them.

“That too. But I was thinking how they just don’t understand the point of Yule. They just pick and choose the parts they like and that’s not even covering the multicultural appropriation violations.”

“It’s a multicultural society.”

“Yes, but Santa is Scandanavian, the Christmas tree is German and it's not about gifts,” Blaise pointed out.

“I know my mythology, thank you. But what’s got you all worked up?” 

“Do you know why we use gingerbread in the Magical world for Yule?” He leaned closer to her.

“Because it’s delicious?” She smiled and took another sip of her drink, enjoying goading blaise a little.

He rolled his eyes at her and knocked back his cocktail while motioning to the waitress for another round. “Ginger is about healing, increasing energy, luck and sex.”

“Okay, professor,” Hermione teased him to distract from the tingle she felt in her inner thighs at the way he pronounced sex in his deep voice, making it sound far more salacious than it should.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “We’ll explore your professor kink another time, when we aren’t surrounded by people,” he said softly. “It’s about gathering your power at the darkest time of the year and bolstering it to see you to the equinox in the spring. To heal it if you’d done harm to it with bad spells. To rejuvenate it.”

“Basically giving your magic a facial.”

“In more ways than one,” Blaise waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Don’t be gross,” Hermione chided him, gently pushing at his shoulder.

“You’re the one that mentioned facials.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes at him.

“Anyway,” he continued. “It’s the only tradition in this hellhole I can actually support.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Hermione, we’re in exile, nay, purgatory. We pissed off the wrong people and they “promoted” us to the other end of the world.” He even did the finger quotes. “We both hate it here, don’t even think about lying to me. We’re only doing what we’re doing because we know each other. If we were still in England, there’s no way you’d be spending your evenings in my bed.” He shrugged and accepted their refills from the waitress. “Who knows? Maybe you’d be shacked up with Draco or something.”

Well, at least Blaise had no illusions as to what they are and where they stand.

“Do you...are you...okay with our situation?” Hermione felt a burning desire to know, to define where they stood.

He leaned back in his seat and spent long moments just staring at her. She met and held his gaze.

Blaise licked his lips and leaned forward.

“I’m never satisfied with anything in my life, but this?” He indicated between them. “This satisfies me.”

He didn’t ask her if she was satisfied with their arrangement which was a relief. She wouldn’t know how to answer it if he had.

“Someone left a gingerbread biscuit on my desk today.”

Blaise simply raised his eyebrows in response.

“I threw it away.”

“Why’d you do that?” he asked.

“I never accept food from unknown sources.”

Blaise nodded. “Your loss, I guess. I’m sure it would have been delicious.”

“The icing hurts my teeth. I prefer soft gingerbread anyway.”

“Well now I know more about your baked goods preferences than I ever thought I would.” He smiled and took her hand. “What do you say to us going back to mine and seeing if ginger sex magic is as good as it sounds?”

“As tempting as that offer is, I’m going home. Rain cheque?” She stood from her seat and pulled on her jacket. “I’ll Floo you.”

* * *

Hermione found herself changing course halfway home and headed to the Venice Beach Boardwalk, walking north towards Santa Monica.

One question circled her mind as she walked, ignoring the crowds around her.

Was she happy with their arrangement?

She wasn’t unhappy with it, per se. It was fun. It was convenient. It was someone to hold.

Was it more? Could it be more? Did she want it to be more? Would he be open to evolving the relationship?

Was she?

Theri earlier conversation played in a loop in her mind. Blaise could be serious one moment then joke like a pre-teen the next. Talking to him was like playing table tennis. You had to keep your wits about you.

She liked that about him.

He was also rather good looking, which certainly helped his appeal and someone had taught him some pretty impressive moves in the bedroom that left her breathless.

She liked that too.

The night they met at that party, he had such a sharp wit that she’d choked on her champagne more than once. Most bedroom sessions had her laughing until her sides hurt.

She definitely liked that he made her laugh, pulling her out of her own head.

Hermione stopped suddenly as her stomach lurched and fluttered.

She liked Blaise Zabini in more than just the arrangement.

Well, bugger.

She made her way home, the terror and excitement of her realisation not allowing her much room for a good night’s sleep.

* * *

From the moment Hermione dragged herself from her bed, she went back and forth.

“I should tell him.”

“No. Nope. Bad idea.”

“I really should tell him.”

“He’s going to laugh and then ghost me.”

Over and over.

She was so distracted when she arrived at work, she almost overlooked a small package on her desk.

The tag held a simple message.

“You make me all soft inside.”

Inside the box was a large gingerbread cookie, soft and gooey on the inside when she broke it in half. The spicy ginger aroma triggering the same reaction that she had to how Blaise pronounced the word sex.

Mind made up, she Floo’d to Blaise’s office, by-passed his secretary and barged into his office.

“I want more,” Hermione announced, before noticing his office held two visitors who turned to her with confused expressions.

Blaise smiled in his lopsided trademark way that made her own mouth turn up.

“I’ll arrange the number of the bakery for you,” he played it cool, gesturing to the box in her hands.

“Not more gingerbread, you obtuse fool,” she charged on, ignoring the visitors. “More of this.” She gestured between them. “Upgraded to something real.”

Blise stood and rounded his desk to gently remove the box from her hands and deposit it on the corner of the desk. He turned his attention to his guests and with a jerk of his head, sent them on their way.

The door had barely closed when Blaise cupped Hermione’s cheeks.

“It was always real for me.”

“But you said-”

“I lied. I had to play it cool.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she laughed and pushed up on her toes to kiss him.

* * *

Hermione rolled onto her back, her skin damp from sweat slipping against the silk sheets of Blaise’s bed. The muscles in her thighs jumping from the exertion of their session.

The air in the rrom thick with the aromas of ginger and sex.

She glanced over at the table in the corner, which held the smoldering remnants of the gingerbread house they had to build to invoke the spell.

Blaise rolled onto his side, touching her from toe to shoulder.

“Once I catch my breath, I’m going to see if they were right about the magic,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder.

“I can feel it tingling just under my skin,” she replied softly. She lifted her hand, noticing minute flashes of sparks between her fingers. “I feel as if I can cast anything right now without my wand.”

Blaise trailed his finger along her stomach, from her ribs towards her navel. Tiny blue sparks jumped between them, making her stomach muscles quiver.

“Much better than a facial,” he smiled.

“Escpecially seeing as how I don’t have to worry about your aim.”

“Oh really?” He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her even closer to him, almost covering her completely. 

Hermione giggled as he began kissing her neck. She could feel him begin to grow against her thigh, her core increasing its throbbing in anticipation for the next round.

“I love you,” she felt him breathe into the skin behind her ear. Her heart annoyingly skipped a beat at the words.

She turned her head and caught his lips in a kiss. She loved him too. 

Hermione wasn’t sure if they’d be saying it to each other by this time next year, but for now, in this moment, it worked and she held it close to her heart. 

Tomorrow seemed an eternity away and she found herself not caring. No plans. No expectations. Just his arms around her and their hearts beating together was all she needed.

Maybe this is what happiness was.

And if so, she’d take it.

  
  
  
  



End file.
